


The More Things Change

by ChocolateTeapots



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Dial-Up Internet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Minor Spoilers through S3E17, The Reach (just their bones), Young Justice Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateTeapots/pseuds/ChocolateTeapots
Summary: Jaime and Bart address some long deferred issues in the wake of the Outsiders’ debut mission.
Relationships: Bart Allen & Jaime Reyes
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a response to S3E17, First Impressions, which is the Outsiders’ debut mission against some stolen Reach ships. I revisited the episode after reading [Spill Over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19986439) by [Assassins_and_Outsiders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassins_and_Outsiders/pseuds/Assassins_and_Outsiders).
> 
> Special thanks to [Gumiii_Writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumiii_writes) for acting as my Beta and helping me get this off the WIP pile, as well as for reminding me how ridiculous all this superhero stuff sounds when you’re trying to explain it to someone not already familiar with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written as a response to S3E17, First Impressions, which is the Outsiders’ debut mission against some stolen Reach ships. I revisited the episode after reading [Spill Over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19986439) by [Assassins_and_Outsiders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassins_and_Outsiders/pseuds/Assassins_and_Outsiders).
> 
> Special thanks to [Gumiii_Writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumiii_writes) for acting as my Beta and helping me get this off the WIP pile, as well as for reminding me how ridiculous all this superhero stuff sounds when you’re trying to explain it to someone not already familiar with it.

Jaime flew low over the leafless trees, scanning for traces of their target. The Blue Beetle armor tinted the snow-covered ground below him orange in the low light, belying the frigid temperature. With the armor shielding him from the cold, Jaime mostly registered it through the almost imperceptible sluggishness of their wings.

[The signal is three point six miles west, 273 feet below our current position] the Scarab reported. It punctuated the statement with a visual marker blinking almost cheerily among the otherwise bleak landscape.

“Got it,” Jaime said, banking lower to regroup with Bart, who followed in a spray of snow below. As he got closer Jaime was thankful all over again that they’d had an idea where they were going beforehand; the snow uniform barely looked any different than the standard Kid Flash suit through his orange visor, but he could still see the harsh red on Bart’s nose and cheeks. Each breath came out as a cloud before vanishing behind him as he ran.

“Almost there?” Bart asked, quiet, so starkly different from his usual demeanor.

Jaime couldn’t blame him. Their mission had his nerves buzzing too.

* * *

“Can you tell how many are left on Earth? Reach ships? Or any other tech?” Bart had asked, a week ago. He’d stuck by Jaime as they cleared the line of phone wielding teens to get a little space and spoke the moment they’d reached a decent range.

Objectively, the mission had gone surprisingly smoothly. Yeah, they hadn’t expected the Reach warship, but they’d disabled it and the others without any serious injuries and with minimal property damage. And it sounded like the teens they’d saved had caught the whole thing on their phones. Jaime doubted they could have engineered a more successful public debut for the Outsiders.

Knowing that didn’t do much for the pit in his stomach.

One of the Reach ships they’d grounded that night lay in full view. The ship sat tilted, awkwardly propped up by a pile of shoveled snow, looking more like a bad parking job than the vanguard for an alien invasion. Not that the ridiculous mundanity of it did anything to ease the tension wound tight through Jaime’s body.

He could hear Gar and Cassie behind them, chatting for the cameras happily and completely at ease with their rolls as spokespeople for this new and exciting team. Like Gar hadn’t been held captive on a near identical warship. Like Cassie hadn’t lain twitching on the cot next to him after their fight with Black Beetle.

Jaime took a deep breath, focusing on the bite of the cold air against his lungs. The Reach hadn’t returned, couldn’t return, the rational portion of his brain reminded him. This had just been a bunch of Intergang thugs playing their same stupid games. He’d been taking them on since before he’d even heard of the Reach.

The Scarab answered Bart’s question while he’d been collecting himself.

“Yeah,” Jaime relayed, having the Scarab retract the Blue Beetle helmet and shrinking his vision down to the cones of light from the line of streetlamps. His voice held steady, much to his relief. “The Scarab found a couple of hotspots, probably ships, along with a bunch of weaker signals. Once we get back to base and look at a map, we should be able to get a better idea.”

“Let’s go now. Won’t take long.” Jaime could just make out Bart’s expression, one darker than a fifteen year old should be able to make. Jaime remembered being fifteen - his biggest worry had been catching up to Tye in Green Lantern Corp: Revengeance.

He made a mental note to do something stupid with Bart later, just the two of them. They hadn’t seen enough of each other lately, with Jaime’s college applications and non-classified extracurriculars taking up so much of his free time.

Jaime sighed, “As much as I want to punch something too, we should talk to the team. In case-“ He didn’t think he could finish that thought. This whole thing still had him feeling more than a little sick.

Bart nodded. “I’ll go tell Gar!” he said, just as Jaime said “Let’s go find M’gann.”

They stared at each other with the sudden realization that things were different now. One more constant of the past two years suddenly wasn’t constant anymore.

* * *

They went to M’gann, who looked momentarily stricken when they laid out their plan.

“Look, if there’s anyone there, we’ll get the whole team. It’s just…” Jaime rubbed the back of his neck, feeling weirdly self-conscious. Which was ridiculous - he’d been working with M’gann for over two years now and they’d had way weirder conversations than this. “We talked it over already, and this feels personal. Plus I don’t want the Outsiders tied up in any more of my baggage.” He didn’t need to tell her about the media circus that would ensue if the general public got it in their heads that the Outsiders were somehow linked to the Reach invasion. She’d been there for it the last time around.

She nodded. “Thank you for letting me know. Absolutely retreat and call for backup if there are any hostiles.”

M’gann treating this like any other mission was probably the most comforting thing he could hope for. It was way more heartening than Jaime wanted to admit.

Then she reached out, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ll cover for you if anything else comes up. I am sorry, that you still have to deal with this.”

Bart’s easy smile blurred a little at the edges. “Hey, why the long face? It’s not like there’s anything you could have done.”

“Just text me before you go?”

Bart snorted. “Sure thing, mom!”

* * *

Jaime flew them down the last 50 feet to the bunker. Just looking at the precarious opening in the ice, he’d hazard a guess that this entrance hadn’t been around two years ago. He didn’t see any signs that anyone else had been through here either, a hunch the Scarab quietly confirmed. Bart hung from his arms as they descended, eyes scanning below them but otherwise still despite how he must be freezing in his snow-soaked suit.

They touched down soundlessly in what looked like a small storage room, judging by the neat stack of crates. The metal door, presumably leading into the rest of the facility, also hadn’t seen use recently if the small mound of snow against it was any indication. The only sound was the wind’s low whistle through their entrance, and a look at Bart told Jaime he hadn’t noticed any signs of life either.

Relaxing the tiniest bit, Bart vibrated the water out of his suit and Jaime tossed him the pair of clean socks the Scarab had held for him. The phantom voices of their teammates teasing him were almost comforting in the near silence.

“Thirty seconds,” Jaime whispered. “If you’re not back by then, I’m calling for backup and blasting my way in there.”

Bart nodded and silently phased through the door.

Despite knowing Bart would have gone in regardless, Jaime couldn’t help the guilt of his friend taking the brunt of the risk. The prickling beneath his skin had only intensified now that they were actually here, his limbs even more sluggish. He couldn’t do this, and like hell was he leaving Bart in there with whatever was behind the door. He would just get this over with and…

Bart phased back through the door.

“No one’s here. Just a couple husks and some ships.”

Jaime took a deep breath before nodding.

* * *

Jaime checked his watch as he walked to the Taos zeta tube. Good, he had half an hour before Bart got out of school and they headed to the first location on their list. The pre-mission anxiety had been ramping up all day and was already more intense than it had been in years.

[Jaime Reyes, is there a reason you are progressing so slowly?]

Jaime snapped back into the moment. He had been walking slowly, giving in to the nervous heaviness of his limbs. Feeling a little ridiculous, he picked up the pace and entered the zeta tube.

Walking into the Hub was still a little uncomfortable at the best of times. Not that it wasn’t completely awesome; the place had every game known to man, floor to ceiling screens for Smash tournaments - and mission briefings, but mostly Smash - and the type of couches that looked stiff but were actually comfy as hell. But while Mount Justice had been awkward for the carried weight of generations of heroes, the Hub shone shiny and factory perfect. The air still had a slight bite to it, which Gar affectionately referred to as the tower’s “new car smell.” Even with the hoard of teenagers living in and tromping through it, it hadn’t quite been broken in yet, and Jaime couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d leave a scratch if he so much as touched something.

To compound the awkwardness, Gar and Vic abruptly went silent as he walked through the door.

“Because that’s waaaay less weird,” Jaime muttered under his breath to the Scarab, which made a chirping noise Jaime equated to a snort in response.

“Hey Beetle.” Vic spoke first, overly casual. Jaime wasn’t surprised - while the two of them had been hanging out, bonding over the shared weirdness of their lives post alien tech fusion - they weren’t really close.

“Hey Vic, Gar,” Jaime said, raising a hand amicably as his eyes flicking from Vic’s face to Gar’s. Gar smiled at him, looking perfectly at ease, controlled in a way the little monkey kid he’d been when Jaime first joined the team could never have pulled off. “The Scarab bet me that you guys were talking about me talking to myself, which for the record I’ve barely done around Vic. So how off base was it?”

Vic, picking up on the out, shot him a grateful look. “Uh, so I was telling Gar about some chatter I’d picked up on some message boards about the Outsiders’ fight with those Reach ships last week. Now that I’m kind of half computer, I can’t really turn it off.” He gestured vaguely at the chrome and lights side of his face. “The thread blamed Blue Beetle for the attack, and I figured I’d better let you guys know, in case, you know, it was something the team needed to deal with.”

Jaime’s stomach dropped, even as he made a mental note to thank the Scarab later in private. They’d been through this before, and he needed the Scarab to know that he appreciated that it continued to honor their agreement.

“And I was telling Vic that while it’s super cool that he can monitor the entire internet, I was sorry he had all those conspiracy nuts in his head all the time.” Gar grinned. “I’ve been through my comments section - can you imagine having that with a direct pipeline to your brain?” He shuddered dramatically, laughing.

“Those guys just don’t quit, do they?” If Jaime’s laugh came out a bit shakier than Gar’s, no one commented on it.

Gar waved a hand dismissively, eyes already back on his phone. “It’ll blow over. And hey, if you need me to give you a shoutout or something to shut them up, just let me know.” He’d pulled up the WeAreAllOutsiders hashtag and flashed his phone at them. “We’re still trending, so no worries. It’ll take more than this to take the Outsiders down!”

[The Garfield Logan’s assessment is illogical. Data and prior experience suggests such a tactic would increase unsubstantiated attacks.]

“I know,” Jaime replied. “It’s cool. But thanks for the thought.”

* * *

Jaime jumped, sonic cannon out and aimed at the Reach soldier before he could even think, heart racing.

“No need.” Bart’s voice sounded bitter as he zipped over and pushed the Reach soldier with his foot. It slid from its seated position to the floor with a dull clatter. “Just their bones. Or exoskeletons, or whatever they’re made out of.”

The soldier’s husk lay motionless, the red of its armor bleached by time and low light. One of its arms lay a foot away from the rest, the empty socket leaving a window into the corpse’s hollow interior. Jaime had seen a couple dead bodies in his years with the team, but this didn’t really feel like that. Everything was far too clean; it looked less like a corpse than like a fallen suit of armor, or like a fly, dead on a windowsill, empty and dry and ready to be blown away by the slightest breeze.

Bart had moved on by the time Jaime pulled his eyes away from the soldier’s fallen form and Jaime followed.

The next room opened into a cavernous hanger, the building around them having transitioned from metal plates to the more organic feel of the Reach ships. They’d always made Jaime feel uneasy, like he was Pinocchio in the belly of the whale. The beams stood out starkly from the rest of the building surrounding them, a monstrous ribcage the only thing keeping the entire place from collapsing in on him. A handful of ships sat docked, ready to go at a moment’s notice if anyone had been left to drive them.

Bart stood by a couple of tables and racks of equipment surrounded by the empty husks of still more Reach soldiers. Jaime had to bite back the sudden hysterical urge to laugh, the scattered husks looking like so many action figures on Milagro’s bedroom floor.

Jaime moved to join Bart, but stopped to examine a soldier’s hunched form. “The Reach just left the planet without them. And they all just waited here?”

“The drones don’t have a sense of self,” Bart replied, kicking the dusty husk of another Reach soldier. It slid across the floor, settling in a crumpled heap in the corner. “The meat probably just sat around until they starved.”

[The Bart Allen is correct] the Scarab seconded, sounding even flatter than normal. [Individual soldiers only have purpose so long as they serve the collective mission. Separated from that purpose, mental functions would cease.]

“That’s so…” Sad? Messed up? Jaime didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He stared at a seated soldier, its arms rested delicately on the table before it, posed like those cheap dioramas he’d laughed at with his classmates on a recent visit to city hall.

“So that’s just it?” he said instead. “It doesn’t look like anyone even bothered to come looking for them.”

“Doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten.”

It was so easy to forget, with his jokes and easy smiles and joyful energy, the dark place Bart came from and still sometimes inhabited. Watching his friend, Jaime mentally rearranged his next week. They needed to do something stupid together soon, like ASAP. This past week had been crap in anticipation for this mission. No way was he going to let Bart stew for another one.

“No,” Jaime said, stepping forward until they were side by side, “we haven’t.”

* * *

Gar had excused himself barely a minute later, typing something furiously into his phone.

Vic watched Gar leave before turning back to Jaime. He looked almost apologetic as he asked, only half-joking, “So, is this what it means, being a hero these days?”

Was there even a way to answer that completely? He could tell Vic about his school experience when he’d finally returned after the invasion, or being the cause of every family meeting for a year, or Milagro getting into fights defending his “honor.” Or maybe about having to make a conscious decision each time he left the house, his face having been broadcast around the globe as the enemy force’s champion. How seeing pictures from their Outsiders debut made him a little sick, seeing himself posed there like Peter Pan.

And it wasn’t like it was all in the past, either. The conversation with his parents about joining a public team had gone about as well as could be expected, even if it had felt like they were all bracing for the impact once he was back in the public eye.

But what came to mind was standing by Bart’s shoulder as his friend set up his social media accounts. How sad and tense and tired Jaime had been from the neverending barrage of hatred online aimed at him and his family. How Jaime had tried, to the full extent of his patience, to explain that no, Bart really didn’t want to make himself the target of all Jaime’s detractors just by saying he was Jaime’s friend. Jaime could still conjure a dulled version of the unique mix of horror and utter gratitude that had warred in his chest when Bart had completely ignored him and done it anyway.

He didn’t say any of that. Instead, he said, “Yeah, sometimes. It’s way better now that this guy,” he pointed a thumb to his back, “figured out that it wasn’t worth hunting down AlienTruther47 and all his friends every time this came up.” Vic didn’t look terribly convinced, and Jaime couldn’t blame him. He shrugged. “Sometimes the best move is to ignore it.”

This earned a snort. “So who’s the lazy team mentor giving that advice?”

“Nah, that wasn’t from anyone on the Team. That was Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

Bart chose that moment to run in, draping his arms over their shoulders. “Vic! Jaime! You would not believe what happened on the way over here-“

“Nope, later.” Jaime extracted himself with practiced ease and waved to Vic. “Anyway, catch you later? No way I’m letting you keep the air hockey title after that crap you pulled last week.”

“In your dreams, Beetle!”

Jaime suited up as they approached the zeta tube. He managed half a smile at Bart. “Ready?”

Bart’s grin evaporated from his face the moment it was just the two of them. He nodded. “Let’s go crash their mode.”

* * *

Jaime touched the warship’s control panel and the Scarab connected to the mainframe as seamlessly as it had a week ago, as it had two years ago. The cockpit layout - sickeningly familiar with its organic walls and floor and rounded bridge - could have been straight out of his memory rather than three completely different places and times.

The ship lifted off the ground, the smaller fighters falling into formation behind them at a thought. The hanger door gaped wide with the night sky stretching endless beyond it. It was hard to ignore how this was just the beginning. How there were at least half a dozen more sites like this, more ships, more abandoned, lonely-

“Do you regret it?” Bart asked, still and quiet and standing close despite the warship being far too big for the two of them. “Picking up the Scarab? Getting stuck with all this moded Reach nonsense?”

Jaime heard the question behind Bart’s words. They’d talk about it - really talk - soon. Just not now, not when they’re on edge and wired on the deck of a Reach ship.

So instead he put an arm around Bart’s shoulder, pulling him against his side. “Well, I did get you out of it.” He glanced at Bart, who stared intently out into the night even as he pressed closer against Jaime. “So yeah, worst thing that ever happened to me.”

Bart was too warm and vibrated slightly against his arm, which would never not be a little strange. But that was just Bart, and what were best friends for, if not to be a little weird in the most comforting ways? Bart’s arm wrapped around Jaime’s back, a steady presence at his side. “Yeah,” he said, and Jaime can hear the quirk of his smile in the words, “the worst.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter is a deleted scene from the above. I didn't feel like it fit into the tone/pacing so I cleaned it up and included it as an extra.  
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Extra

The Garrick’s ancient desktop and dial-up internet were unsurprisingly too slow for Bart’s liking, even if the combined efforts of the outdated technology had thankfully given Jaime time to talk Bart out of using a picture of Kid Flash as his avatar.

“Ugh! This thing is so moded!” Bart held his arms out at the monitor in the vain hope it would get the hint before dropping his head back against his chair. “Why are we doing this again?”

“To get Gar to shut up about you missing out on the authentic 21st century teenage experience. Which apparently includes making social media accounts and then immediately abandoning them for newer, shinier platforms,” Jaime said, knocking Bart’s chair upright when his friend tried to lean it too far back. “Hey, the page loaded. Put in your information and friend Gar so we can get lunch.”

The sound of super speed keyboard clacking filled the room, effectively ending the conversation for the next couple minutes. Jaime had been grateful for the distraction; this whole situation had him thinking far too much about his own recently reactivated accounts.

He really hadn’t missed the sinking feeling every time he reached for his phone, or waking up to thousands of new messages each morning. He’d scrolled through them with a self-destructive obsession for the first couple days, reading as many as he could before the Scarab decided it was detrimental to his health and had melted his phone. And while it was over a month since the Reach were officially booted off the planet, his parents still regularly got ambushed at work by reporters looking for a quote, or normal people with overly loud opinions. He knew he was in an enviable position, not really having to worry about his own, or - according to a lengthy discussion with Batman - his family’s safety, but it didn’t really make him feel all that much better about being the cause of all of this.

The messages telling him to kill himself weren’t nearly as bad as the ones asking where their children were. The Justice League had thoroughly checked the Reach ships before they’d left, and he knew that kids went missing every day in ways that had nothing to do with alien invaders or supervillains, but still… It paled in comparison to Bart’s future, but he couldn’t help feeling like he could have done more.

But while he’d rather have just stayed off social media, he’d kind of had to return after seeing the abuse redirected towards other Jaime Reyeses. It was better for all that hatred to be aimed at his face and an unmonitored inbox than at actual, unrelated people.

Mostly unmonitored, anyway; Jaime had been up late the night before explaining to the Scarab yet again how no, it couldn’t just track down the senders or eviscerate them through the ethernet cord. The conversation had just exhausted him all over again, the weight of the weeks of being under siege fitting so easily back on his shoulders.

So yeah, maybe he should have offered up something else for them to do today, but really, what was he going to do? Unleash Bart on social media with no restraints? As funny as that might be, Jaime tried to be a better friend than that. The least he could do was nudge Bart’s chair when he entered 2043 for his birthday. Facebook probably wouldn’t have let him create an account with that information, but still.

But the lack of sleep must have been affecting him, because Jaime only caught Bart right before he friended Jaime’s dummy account.

“You don’t want to do that,” Jaime said, grabbing Bart’s hand on the mouse.

Bart blinked at him. “Why wouldn’t I friend you? We’re friends. Isn’t that the whole point of Facebook?”

Well, no, but Jaime really didn’t feel like having that conversation on top of the more pressing one. So instead he’d said, “It’s not really my account.”

“Dude, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s got your face on it. It’s got your name. I don’t know where the “Book” part comes in, but seriously, am I missing some crazy retro code here?”

Jaime scratched the back of his neck, tuning out the Scarab agreeing with the Kid Flash that Jaime was being ridiculous, and really, why shouldn’t they horribly maim all those people instead of ignoring them? “People are still mad about…” He gestured vaguely. “You know. Everything. That account’s just there to be a target.”

Bart had clicked on Jaime’s profile by this point, the slowly loading screen giving Jaime time to appreciate each new panel in turn. Profile picture: his face from the Reach press announcement to avoid confusion. Name: Jaime Reyes. Bio: The Blue Beetle, in case his face didn’t make it obvious enough. Wall: aimless, badly spelled malice from people he’d never met. Friends: none.

Knowing what he’d find there hadn’t helped with the dull ache in his stomach as much as he’d hoped.

Bart, having processed the sad state of Jaime’s public face the moment the page loaded, scrolled angrily through the posts. Luckily he was spared seeing more than the first three by the internet connection, finding only the blank squares of unloaded comments when he scrolled down. “Who are these people? Do you even know them?” Bart leaned in, squinting at the screen. “J. Jonah Jamison? What kind of a name is that?”

[This Scarab has the capabilities to locate the Jonah Jameson. We can demonstrate the “bug menace” for him personally with sonic cannons.]

“No,” Jaime responded to both of them, “and it doesn’t matter. They’re just mad, and since we kicked the Reach off the planet they don’t have anywhere else to direct it.”

“You know that’s like trying to help someone feel better by letting them punch you in the face, right? Not a great plan, Blue.” Bart stared at him, obstanate. “And I still don’t see how me adding you on this stupid site that neither of us use is going to change that.”

Sighing, Jaime pointed out, “You’re definitely not going to use it if you add me. It’ll just put you in the crosshairs of all these idiots. There’s a reason I unfriended Tye, and the rest of the Team.”

“What, so they were fine just dropping you so they didn’t have to deal with this?!”

Jaime frowned, taken aback by Bart’s sudden outburst. What was that about? “No, it’s because who you’re friends with on these things doesn’t matter! We’re friends in real life, so who cares about this stupid site? The only other person who made anything of it was my abuela, and even she forgave me after I promised to write more.”

[Jaime Reyes, this situation continues to create undue stress. Recommended course of action: eliminate the Jonah Jameson]

Jaime ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. None of this was new. Why was he getting so worked up about it?

He closed his eyes, trying to find the energy to continue arguing. He’d thought he was done and could just ignore the social media side of… all this for a while. He’d been kind of looking forward to it, actually, more than he’d realized. His real friends had his new phone number, so what else did he need?

“Look, let’s just finish your profile. We can get Gar off your back, and then we can get lunch.” Jaime forced a grin and hoped it didn’t look as drained as he felt. “This is already the longest I’ve ever seen you go without complaining about being hungry.”

Bart just gave him a look, one he didn’t use often but clearly said he’d seen through Jaime’s lame attempt to change the subject. Then he clicked the “add friend” button, and stood up, stretching. “Alright, let’s go. You’re buying, right?”

“Why’d you do that?!” Jaime yelled. The stupid browser took its sweet time moving on from the empty smile of his profile picture and the cheery blue Friend Added button beneath it. He rounded on Bart, who had already grabbed his jacket and looked ready to head out the door. “Were you listening to anything I said?!”

Because one of them had to be the responsible one, right? Even if that reckless, meaningless gesture had left a lump in Jaime’s throat the size of Texas and a lot of emotions welling up in his chest that he was too tired to deal with right now.

“They,” Bart said, pointing at the screen, “don’t get to tell me who I’m friends with, on or off the stupid website, so sorry, but you’re stuck with me. Also,” Bart continued, standing in an instant with his arm slung around Jaime’s shoulder and a finger in Jaime’s face, “they don’t get me Chicken Whizzees. So who do you think I’m going to side with?”

Jaime huffed out a laugh. “So you’re saying you’re easily bribable. Good to know.” He didn’t trust himself to say much more than that, so he just gave his friend’s hand a quick squeeze and let his arm sit a bit longer than usual before untangling them.

“It’s a sound investment,” Bart said, nodding sagely. “So, what was this about lunch?”

**Author's Note:**

> The second chapter is a deleted scene from the above. I didn't feel like it fit into the tone/pacing so I cleaned it up and included it as an extra.  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
